


Worthy

by Jess4400



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Asriel is a cinnamon roll, Chara has OCD, Chara has problems, Chara's Pronouns are They/Them, F/M, Gen, Give me mercy please, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Intrusive Thoughts, Not a romance fic, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, POV Second Person, Reader Is Chara, Self-Harm, This pov style is so weird but I wanted to try it, first ao3 post, goat mom and goat dad, vent fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 21:59:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7481496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jess4400/pseuds/Jess4400
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You realize that maybe, just maybe, you deserve this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worthy

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first AO3 fic. I saved up enough money to finally buy myself a laptop. This is mostly a vent-fic and I will probably not update regularly. Sorry about that! I hope you enjoy anyway. :)

When you regain consciousness, you notice that you’re sprawled out face down on a bed of golden flowers. An ear-splitting ring drowns out the rest of your senses. You try to move your hands to block out the awful sound, but you feel a sharp pain in your wrist that makes you stop and wince. Your hands probably took most of the impact from the fall, you figure.  
You groan at your pathetic state and turn your head just enough so that you’re not being smothered by the flowers. You take a deep breath in through your nose and smell the flowers. They smell very nice. They remind you of your mother’s perfume.

NO. You’re definitely not going to think about that right now. Your head chants anyway. (She hates you, she hates you, she hates you!) You ignore the thoughts and instead focus on how to fix your current situation.

You want to open your eyes, but you know the room will be very bright. Through closed eyes, you can already sense the glare of the sun peaking through the hole you fell through. This is not going to be fun. You manage to sit up and brace yourself for the overstimulation. You feel a small hand on your back. You open your eyes.   
You are shocked to discover that a small (goat?) monster is leaning over you. If you weren’t so panicked, you would’ve noticed that his big green eyes were filled with worry. If you were paying closer attention, you would have seen that his gentle hands were supporting you to keep you from falling. If you weren’t so quick to violence, you wouldn’t have punched him in the face.   
But you are all of those things, and you end up hurting the one person who has ever stopped to help you. The goat boy’s eyes welled with tears and you decide that you are the most awful thing in the world. 

Demon.  
Demon.  
Demon.  
DEMON.

“Wait!” The boy shouts. “Stop!” You’re going to hurt yourself even more!” He pries your hands away from your arm, where you just now realize you were scratching hard. You think the red streaks look good against your pale, freckled skin, but the horrified expression on the boy’s face makes you think he disagrees.

“Sorry,” you mutter. “Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry.” You turn away. After you regain your composure, you make eye contact just long enough to discover that he’s not crying anymore. Is he angry with you? Will he hurt you back? He must feel your anxiety rising because he looks just as uncomfortable as you.

“Umm,” he blurts out, “You’ve fallen down, haven't you?” Obviously. You nod.

“Are you okay?” He looks at you with such concern. It makes you feel small.  
He’s asking if you’re okay? You’re the one who just punched him. He’s wasting his time on you. You’re only going to hurt him more.

“Yes, but..” You meet his eyes, “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you. You startled me. I’m sorry.” You say this statement with the most sincerity you've ever felt. You always want to cause harm, but this time is different. This boy doesn’t deserve your cruelty.   
The boy smiles and nods. “Yeah! I know you were just scared. It stung a little, but I’ll be alright. My mom can fix us both up with her healing magic. Here, let me help you up.”  
You take the boy’s hand and clumsily rise to your feet. Your body hurts, but what’s new? You deserve it anyway. The boy smiles at you and motions for you to lean on him. You follow his lead and start walking (limping) towards a door. He must see your cheesy beaded name bracelet because he grins and points at it.

“Chara, huh? That’s a nice name.” 

You manage a small, grateful smile.

“My name is Asriel.”


End file.
